


Clean Slate

by Reioka



Series: Girl Next Door [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 09:06:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reioka/pseuds/Reioka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles was ten and trying to figure out how to live without his mother. He wasn’t doing a very good job, he thought. He still sometimes turned around with his mouth open to tell her something, and was crushed all over again when he realized she wasn’t there and never would be again. Ever since the funeral, his dad came home from work, drank some, and went to bed. Stiles missed school and was glad when it was out, so he didn’t have to disappoint his dad with calls home about his bad behavior. But now that meant that he spent a lot of time at home alone, or with Scott, or over at the Andersons’ house, and he probably wasn’t the best company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean Slate

**Author's Note:**

> This seems more like a filler than an actual addition to the story line, but at the same time, it doesn't? Also Addie is surprisingly out of character, but it makes sense in the end. She's always so nice and easy-going that sometimes even I forget about her past. :P Whoops!

Clean Slate

 

Stiles was ten and trying to figure out how to live without his mother. He wasn’t doing a very good job, he thought. He still sometimes turned around with his mouth open to tell her something, and was crushed all over again when he realized she wasn’t there and never would be again. Ever since the funeral, his dad came home from work, drank some, and went to bed. Stiles missed school and was glad when it was out, so he didn’t have to disappoint his dad with calls home about his bad behavior. But now that meant that he spent a lot of time at home alone, or with Scott, or over at the Andersons’ house, and he probably wasn’t the best company.

 

He felt like a porcupine, prickly and mean and liable to snap at the slightest provocation. Everyone kept telling him it was okay to be angry, to be upset, but he just felt ashamed. His dad needed him to be better, so he’d stop stressing him out. He needed to take care of him, since his dad couldn’t handle it at the moment, and it just seemed like he was making things worse, even though everyone told him that things were getting better. It was like they didn’t understand that _he’d watched his mom die._

 

So he said terrible things to everyone, things that dug deep, things he noticed that bothered them. He made Scott cry and Mrs. McCall should have scolded him, but she didn’t; she just took Scott home and didn’t let him come over for a while. He said terrible things about Mrs. Anderson and Grandpa Jim, how they’d be next, and they’d just shrugged and said it was probably true, but didn’t invite him into the house for cookies anymore. He said terrible things to Addie last, because she was the only one that still hung out with him, and just like every other time, he felt guilty as soon as he said it.

 

But he felt worse about Addie, because she tried so hard not to cry, and then when she finally did, she screamed that she never wanted to see him again and stomped out of his house, and he felt like he’d just made the worst mistake of his life.

 

The Andersons left a few days later. They packed their car up and drove away and didn’t come back for a month.

 

Stiles was just glad that they came back at all.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Addie was tanner when they came back. Her hair was sun-bleached and much frizzier than usual. She slid out of the car and helped Grandpa Jim into his wheelchair, then pulled out a compact mirror and looked herself over as Mrs. Anderson got out from the driver’s seat. Once they were on their way to the door, she grabbed all of the luggage from the car and took it up to the porch in three trips, shut the trunk, and then dragged the suitcases into the house. She didn’t look over at the Stilinski house.

 

Stiles knew, because he was watching. He pretended it didn’t hurt. He was getting better at pretending things didn’t hurt these days.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Addie stomped up to the Stilinski door and knocked twice before she burst inside. Stiles stayed in the doorway, unsure of what to say. ‘Sorry’ didn’t seem good enough, so he kept still, hoping that she would talk to him but also wishing she wouldn’t.

 

Addie lifted the sack from her hand onto the table with a clank and began pulling out different bottles—wine, tequila, vodka, whiskey, bourbon. Once they were all settled on the table, she turned and swept into the kitchen. “I can’t even fucking believe this.”

 

Stiles cringed back behind the wall a little, even as he heard his dad’s footsteps on the stairs. She still sounded super mad.

 

Ivan paused as the foot of the stairs, squinting at the several bottles on the coffee table and mumbling, “What the _hell._ ” There was a knock at the door, and he tilted his head before going to answer it, surprised when she saw Melissa and Scott there, because he hadn’t seen them for a while. “Hey, Melissa, Scott. What are you—”

 

Addie stormed back into the room and slammed Ivan’s two (mostly empty) bottles of whiskey onto the table beside the alcohol she brought, then stomped up to him and got right up in his face. “You are going to call in sick and drink with Melissa until my Grandma tells you to stop,” she hissed, glaring at him. “It’s been a month, for God’s sake. And then remember this, because it’ll be the last time we give you a free pass. You lost your wife. Your _child_ lost a _mother,_ and now he needs _you_ more than ever _._ Get it together, Stilinski.”

 

Stiles squeaked as she whipped around and came over to grip his wrist, flinching a little. “Addie, what—”

 

“Come on, Stiles. We’re going to my house.” She turned and held her hand out to Scott. “Come on, Scott.”

 

Melissa grabbed his shoulders to keep him from being dragged away. “And where are _you_ three going?”

 

Addie hissed in annoyance. “We’re going to my house. We’re going to make tons of ice-cream, and then we’re going to eat all of it. And if that doesn’t work, we’re going to go to the preserve and scream our heads off.”

 

Scott clearly had nothing against ice-cream, even if he didn’t really look pleased with the prospect of spending time with Stiles. Stiles told himself he deserved it. “Okay.”

 

Addie nodded once before dragging them down the sidewalk, sparing a short, “Hi Grandma, hi Grandpa,” as they passed and Ivan helped Grandpa Jim into the house.

 

“I leave for a month and everything’s still the same. I thought things might get better if I wasn’t here to gum them up, but _no,_ you guys still have your heads so far up your asses—You have the friendship of the era, you idiots, and you’re messing it up because you’re having a hard time dealing. _Jesus._ ”

 

“Stiles said some pretty mean things to me,” Scott immediately pointed out, and Stiles almost tugged his wrist free to hide in his room then and there.

 

“Stiles says pretty mean things to _everyone,_ Scott,” Addie snapped, rolling her eyes. “You’ve _seen_ it. Those kids that bullied you before the school did something about them, the boys that used to follow me around, your _parents_ when they were being unfair. Stiles has a mean mouth. But he’s hurt right now, and you remember that stray dog that was hit by the car? He was hurt, and even though we were trying to help it, it still snapped at us. Stiles is doing the same thing.”

 

Stiles frowned. “Are you calling me a dog?”

 

Addie stopped in front of her front door, took a deep breath, then let it back out and knelt between them, turning to cup his face in her hands. “I’m calling you _hurt,_ Stiles. You’re hurting, and you’re trying to heal yourself, so you’re pushing other people away. But just like that dog, you need _help._ And I’m willing to get bitten a few times if it means helping you.”

 

Stiles hadn’t cried since his mom’s funeral, and that had been just a few silent tears, because he didn’t want his dad to see.

 

He bawled like a baby and threw his arms around her neck, shaking with the force of his sobs. “I want my mom back, Addie! Why did she have to die? She wanted to stay but she died anyway! Why did that happen?”

 

Addie lifted one of her arms when Scott made a distressed noise and squeezed into the hug, wrapping his arms around his friend tightly. “It’s okay, Stiles. I’m here. I’ll let you bite me too.”

 

Stiles wailed. “I didn’t mean any of those things I said, Scott, I was just so mad. I don’t want to be alone. I’m sorry!”

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t stick by when you needed me,” Scott whispered, and began to sniffle as well, eyes brimming with tears.

 

Addie used her grip on them to lug them inside, because she wasn’t equipped to deal with their snot and tears _and_ the judgmental stares of people as they passed on the sidewalk.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Once they’d filled several coffee cans full of vanilla base, they moved back onto the porch, Stiles and Scott rolling the cans back and forth to each other as Addie read. Finally, though, Stiles caved and hesitantly asked, “Where did you go?”

 

Addie looked up in surprise, then shrugged, setting the book aside and grabbing one of the unrolled cans to roll it by herself. “Florida. I was coming over to tell you we were leaving in a few days when you said those things to me. My step-dad was sick, so my grandparents went over to help out until he got better.”

 

“Is he okay?” Scott asked, yelping when he almost fell off his seat.

 

Addie shrugged. “Must be. We’re home.”

 

They looked at her in confusion. They knew she lived with her grandparents, and she didn’t talk about her other family a lot. It wasn’t that she was secretive; they just never asked, and she never talked about them.

 

Scott and Stiles looked at each other, raising eyebrows and tilting heads and making little grunting noises. She watched on, amused, until Stiles finally caved as the most curious and asked, “What were _you_ doing in Florida then?”

 

“I went to Disney World.” She shrugged when they gaped at her and put her can in the cooler so she could start on another one. “Epcot Center. I went to the Everglades, Gatorland, and the Kennedy Space Center. Tons of beaches, a couple of zoos. Universal Studios. I’m planning to go back for the Harry Potter theme park when it opens.”

 

“While your dad was sick?” Scott asked, eyes wide.

 

Addie sighed and turned to face them, setting the can on her knees. “He’s not my dad. My dad died when I was six, right after my little sister was born. My mom remarried, so he’s my step-dad. And I haven’t had any contact with my family since I was eleven and my grandparents moved me back here. Even when they went to go help my mom, all I did was stop by to let them know where I was going for the day, and Grandma always answered the door. They didn’t want me to stay in the house alone, otherwise I would have just stayed here.”

 

That explained a lot. “Oh.”

 

She watched them roll their can back and forth for a moment before smiling and rolling her eyes. “I got you presents.”

 

They threw their hands up, their past fight forgotten for the moment. “YAY!”

 

.-.-.-.

 

Addie leaned over the back of the couch and smiled a little when she saw the boys sprawled out on the floor next to empty ice-cream bowls. “How are you feeling?”

 

“I hate myself,” Stiles groaned. He thought about rolling onto his stomach, but the idea made him cringe a little.

 

Scott smiled up at her dopily. “Good ice-cream, Addie.”

 

She came around the couch and picked up their bowls. “Thanks. Thanks for rolling it for me.”

 

Stiles groaned again. “I never want to see another bowl of ice-cream again.”

 

“More for me,” Addie shrugged, walking into the kitchen. She came back out after depositing the bowls on the counter, flopping onto the couch and reaching down to grab one of Stile’s feet to tug on his toes. “So. How are you doing?”

 

Stiles stiffened. That sounded a lot like the question his school counselor kept asking, followed quickly by ‘you’re so smart, Stiles, so we do these outbursts keep happening?’

 

She tilted her head, waiting for a response, then sat up and looked down at him, frowning. “It’s okay to _not_ be okay, you know.” She turned and put her feet on the ground. “ _I’m_ not okay.”

 

Scott sat up and frowned as well, wringing his shirt in his hands. “I’m not okay either. My mom cries a lot lately, and I miss going to the library and your mom helping us find books, and I miss _you_ , Stiles. This was the worst month _ever._ ”

 

“I missed you too,” Stiles said, sitting up to face him. “I just—this has been the worst few months. It’s like I forgot how to do the simplest things now that Mom’s gone. I keep looking for her to tell me what to do, like when I get ready in the morning or when I’m trying to make myself lunch. No one’s there to remind me that I need to grab a drink from the fridge in the garage, or to put my jacket on before I leave, or tuck me in at night. I miss my mom,” he added quietly, as if ashamed.

 

“Stiles.” Addie slid onto the floor and took his hands, holding them tightly. “You’re always going to miss your mom. Don’t be embarrassed. Just remember, when times get tough, you’ve got your dad, and Scott, and me. You’ve got Mrs. McCall and my grandparents. You have support. We’ll help you cope.”

 

Stiles turned his head away, then looked up at her. “I’m sorry I said those things, Addie. I didn’t mean them.”

 

“I figured.” She patted his hand gently and looked out the window. It was starting to get dark. She turned back to them. “I have an idea. This entire thing has left a bad taste in our mouths. So, let’s start fresh, okay?”

 

“How?” Scott asked, because he still sometimes thought about the things Stiles had said to him and it took forever to bring a smile back to his face.

 

Addie stood. “Get in the car. I’m going to take you to the Preserve.”

 

The boys blinked at her in confusion. “Why?”

 

She rolled her eyes and huffed. “Just do it. I’ll tell you when we get there.”

 

Scott and Stiles looked at each other, then shrugged and scampered out to the Anderson’s sedan. Addie hadn’t steered them wrong before.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Addie made sure the car was locked before she turned and grab their hands. “I’m taking you guys to a clearing I found a couple of years ago.”

 

“This is like the beginning of every horror movie, stupid kids going into the woods,” Stiles said, because he felt it was his duty to point it out.

 

“Excuse you, little man, but none of us are stupid, so we’re _not_ going to be brutally murdered. Besides, none of us are horror-movie attractive.”

 

Scott shrugged in a ‘fair enough’ gesture. “All of those people were high schoolers and college students, too, so Stiles and I are safe. It would just be you.”

 

Addie glared at them. “No one is going to kill us!” She dragged them the last few steps into the clearing she’d told them about and shoved them into it. “Do you want a new start or not, jeez!”

 

They giggled a little—no, chuckled, because only girls and little kids giggled, and they were ten years old. They were practically men.

 

“Now that you guys have got all your laughter out,” she sighed, rolling her eyes, and squatted in front of them. “Here’s what I was thinking. We’re just going to run around this clearing and _scream._ We’re going to scream until we can’t anymore, and we’re going to run around until we fall down. And by the time we’re done, all of the anger and bad energy will be gone. We’ll start with a fresh slate. Okay?”

 

Scott and Stiles looked at each other, pondering it over, then shrugged. They were willing to give it a try. They looked back up at her and nodded. “Okay.”

 

Addie smiled big and bright, like they’d just made her day. She stood up and looked around, then threw her arms above her head and ran the edge of the clearing, screaming at the top of her lungs.

 

She looked really silly, but she also looked like she was having fun. Stiles and Scott hesitated only a moment before following her, screeching and probably scaring all of the animals within a half mile radius away.

 

When Scott’s mom and Stiles’s dad showed up fifteen minutes later, running and screaming behind them (though with a little less coordination), no one said anything.

 

.-.-.-.

 

Tuckered out and lying in the middle of the clearing, Addie rolled onto her stomach and leaned her chin on her arms, frowning. “It made me really mad when you were so angry, Stiles, even though you got the best of your mom all the time. I mean, you were allowed to be, because you were grieving, but I was still really mad at you.”

 

Stiles tilted his head back to look at her, then rolled onto his stomach as well. He felt better after running around. He would probably have been upset by her saying that before, but now he was just curious. “Why?”

 

“Because your last memory was of your mom telling you that she loved you and she wished she could stay,” she answered quietly, like she felt bad for feeling that way. “My last memory of my mom was her beating the crap out of me and telling me I was going to hell. Your mom _wanted you_ and couldn’t stay. My mom didn’t want me and let my grandparents take me away.”

 

Stiles frowned and reached out to lay his hand on hers. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault that my mom didn’t love me as much as yours loved you,” she laughed, a little wetly.

 

Ivan flailed a little before he rolled onto his stomach too, leaning his chin in his hand. “You know, Claudia loved you a lot too. She worried about what would happen to you when she was gone.”

 

Melissa turned her head to smile at her. “I told her I’d keep an eye on you.”

 

“They buried her with the scarf you made her,” Scott added helpfully.

 

Addie let out a startled shriek. “You _buried_ her with that turquoise monstrosity!?”

 

Ivan grinned. “She’s probably showing it off to every other dead person she meets.”

 

“ _Dead people are going to see it and judge me!_ ” she wailed, covering her face and rolling around.

 

Scott laughed. “But she was super proud of it!”

 

Addie bellowed like she was wounded. “You guys are the worst!”

 

“But you love us anyway, right?” Stiles asked, but only as a joke, not because he was actually wondering after the things he told her, of course.

 

She paused in her tormented writhing, looking up at them, then smiled and nodded a little. “Of course. My life would be so boring without my little Finn and Sawyer.”

 

Stiles and Scott smiled back at her and rolled over to look at the starry sky, feeling better than they had in months.

 

It felt like things might be okay, especially when Ivan reached over to tug Stiles up against his side. He smelled like alcohol, but he felt more relaxed than any other time he’d hugged him since his mom died, and it felt… better, somehow, too. Like all he’d needed to do was get so drunk he couldn’t see straight and run around the woods screaming his heart out. Maybe his dad needed a clean slate, too.


End file.
